Daughter of Hope
by crescentmoonthemage
Summary: This is the story of Estelyn, Legolas's childhood friend. When she leaves Mirkwood, she doesn't expect to see him ever again. But, when she joins the Fellowship, their friendship is rekindled and... perhaps something more? Eventual Legolas/OC *CHAPTER 6 UP!*
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, dearest lovelies! Anywho, this is a LOTR fanfic with Legolas/OC and I know already that this chapter doesn't have ANYTHING to do with the actual Fellowship, but it's important all the same. So, enjoy!**

A young elleth wandered the paths of Mirkwood. She had always loved the silence of the forest, the great trees. Giant spiders or not, Mirkwood was her home and always had been, and so she loved it.

She sighed and leaned back against a tree. She noticed the tree sighing in contentment, such a little thing, that only a wood-Elf could observe. She was a young elleth, only 121 years in age, and so, not very wise, but she knew her way around well enough.

She had been seeking the solitude of the deep forest more so then normal after her parents had been killed in the fighting against Sauron at the beginning of the Third Age, just recently, in fact. She had no home but the great trees, anymore, and most of the older Elves who saw her walking around Thranduil's city paid her no mind.

Her unruly russet curls hung down well below her waist when let loose, and her gray eyes could be anywhere from stormy to silvery, depending on her mood. Today they were somewhere near slate, because she was not angry, nor happy. She was simply trying to keep the feelings of her parents' demise at bay, and such was the reason for her eyes turning a dull gray.

She heard a rustling in the trees above her and instinctively reached for the dagger that hung from her belt. She slowly looked up and saw nothing, but that made her all the more nervous. Could the spiders be returning?

She heard the rustling noise again and drew her dagger, pointing the end straight at the tree branches above her. Suddenly, an arrow poked out from the foliage. One of the elleth's eyebrows raised in confusion. She listened closely and heard the sound of a bow being drawn back, so she ducked, watching as the arrow flew over her head.

But she was also quick in motion. In a split second, she had thrown her dagger and heard it stick in a tree branch above. Then, she heard laughter. A blond Elf poked his head out from the tree leaves, blue eyes glittering with mirth. He held her dagger out with slender fingers and she took it, sheathing it again.

The Elf lightly jumped down from the tree, landing neatly on his toes. He was a strange Elf, she had not seen him before. He was clad all in green and brown, with a light green cloak over his back. He had long, blonde hair, laced with warrior braids, and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He had a bow in his hand and a nearly-full quiver slung over his back. The funny thing was is that he looked no older then she was. She retrieved the arrow he had shot and offered it to him.

He took it, placing it back in his quiver. "What's your name?" he asked. "Estelyn," she replied. He contemplated the name for a moment, before replying: "Mae govannen (well met). Mine's Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf."

Estelyn gasped and immediately curtsied best she could in her gray tunic. "Why are you curtsying?" asked Legolas. "Because you are a prince, your Highness." she replied. He laughed. "There's no need to bow to me. If I could, I would choose not to be a prince at all."

She smiled. "Come," he continued. "Where do you live? I will walk you home." Estelyn sighed and stared down at her scuffed Elvish boots. "Do you have a home?" he asked softly. "I did," she replied. "But that was before my parents were killed in the fighting against Sauron's minions. I have a home no longer."

Legolas touched her on the arm. "Perhaps my father would let you live in the Great Halls with us. He's always talked about having a daughter."

Estelyn gasped. "But you are a prince! I'm just the daughter of a scribe!" Legolas turned toward her with a sly grin. "But if you are the friend of a prince, it can get you far."

Estelyn regarded the prince of Mirkwood. "It seems you are right, Legolas." He grinned and nodded. She looked up. They were nearing the Elven city by now. Estelyn could see more and more elves, dark haired and light, happy or sad. But all of them nodded and said: "Your highness," or "your majesty," or "my prince," as they walked by. Legolas turned toward her. "See what I mean, Estelyn? It gets old." She nodded and they walked inside the Great Hall.

Estelyn looked around in wonder, it had been a long time since she had been allowed to enter the Great Hall. There were huge oaken tables and benches, harvested only from trees the Elves found dead, and a huge wooden throne at one end. One it was seated Thranduil, ruler of the Wood-elves. He saw her and one of his eyebrows raised in an almost unpleasant way. _Am I that much of a low-born? _Estelyn thought. Legolas must have known what she was feeling, because he caught her eye and shook his head in what would have been imperceptible to anyone who wasn't looking.

They traveled the length of the Great Hall and stopped before the oaken throne. Not knowing what else to do, Estelyn kneeled. "My king," she murmured. "Rise," he commanded, and she rose, trying to keep her overall fear of Thranduil out of her posture and movements. "Gi suilon (I greet you) my son. And who is this?" Estelyn gulped. "My name is Estelyn, your highness."

Thranduil looked down on her disapprovingly. "I did not say for you to speak. Who is she, my son?" Legolas suddenly found an interest in his green Elvish boots. The king sighed. "Well then, Estelyn, who are you?"

"I am the daughter of the late town scribe Boridhren. My parents were killed in the fighting against Sauron and now I have no home but the great trees." The elven king stared down at her with cool eyes. "And why are you in my throne room, Estelyn daughter of Boridhren?"

She gulped and found no words. Luckily, Legolas stepped up then. "I have kindly suggested that she live with us, at least for a short time."

"You know we are not running a charity house, Estelyn." said Thranduil, a bit too icily. "But," he continued and Estelyn brightened up. "You seem to be a good friend of my son, and there are not many of those. You may stay. Mayril?" A tall Elf came over. "Yes, my king?" she asked in a melodious voice.

"Show Estelyn to her room. She may use the rooms across the hall from my son's. Lay out some clothes for her."

Mayril the elleth nodded and gestured for Estelyn to follow her. They went up some wood stairs and down a hallway before stopping in front of a wooden door. "This is to be your room." said Mayril. "Prince Legolas is across from you."

Estelyn nodded, and went into the room, shutting the wooden door behind her. It was large, with a lounge in one corner and a table in which was sitting some salad. There was a deck overlooking the woods.

_What am I doing in the capital of Mirkwood? _Estelyn thought. _I sure won't stay for long…_

400 Years Later…

"But Ada, you must let me go! I wish to be a Ranger, to explore the world! You know how I hate being in one place for so long!" protested Estelyn, despite Thranduil's wishes. "No, child, you must stay here. We need you here, you are like a queen in these times of need!"

"But I don't want to be a queen! I want to see the world! I've never even been outside of Mirkwood!"

The king sighed. "Estelyn…. We've had this discussion before." Estelyn sighed. "I want to see mountains, mountains. There's nothing keeping me here."

"Legolas wants you here." This made Estelyn reconsider for a moment. "You're one of his only friends." The elleth sighed. "I know." she said quietly. "But I need to go. Somehow I feel like it's my destiny. I have to go. I'm sorry."

Thranduil sighed. "You're like my daughter and you're like his sister. You're needed here." She sighed, stormcloud eyes turning a misty gray. "And that is why I must go. You have the gift of foresight, you know that I leave on the morrow and don't come back!"

King Thranduil, Ruler of the Wood-elves of Mirkwood, and the person she had come to think of as her father, looked down. "Naria is in the stables."

Without another word, Estelyn exited his study, making her way back up to her rooms in silence. It took her more then a half-hour to get there, as she didn't take any of the popular routes. She took the secluded, hidden routes as to try and avoid any elves. But, when she went into her rooms, she saw a familiar blond haired Elf standing on the terrace, staring out into the forest in silence.

He didn't seem to have noticed her, and so she studied him for a moment. He was taller, more serious, more grown-up, but yet he was still the same Elf she had met in a tree 400 years ago. His blond hair was longer, warrior braids still holding it in place, and his posture indicated anger, stress, maybe a hint of sadness. She didn't have to ask to know why.

She walked up next to him, leaning on the railing. "Hey," she said quietly. He turned toward her and his cerulean eyes were cool, yet when he spoke, his voice was filled with unconcealed anger. "Why?" he asked, irritation written on his face. She sighed. "It's not because of you."

"Then why is it?"

She looked down. "It's my destiny." He just stared at her. "How do you know that?" he asked, a bit softer. "I just know."

Anger crept into his liquid blue eyes. "YOU DON'T KNOW! MIRKWOOD IS YOUR HOME, YOU BELONG HERE!" he shouted, losing his temper at last. "No, Legolas." She murmured. "It's not. Not anymore."

Legolas just stalked out of her room in silence, and left her to pack her things. It was her destiny, she had seen it. She hated being in one place for too long, and ahs eidn't intend to return to Mirkwood, no matter how much she liked it. She had longed for adventure all her life, and no one was going to stop her, least of all a blond haired Elf. Granted, she counted him as one of her best friends and most trusted comrades, but she would not stay for him. Not when the outside world so called her.

That night, she packed in silence, lost in thought. A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her reverie, and she opened it to find no one. A small box was sitting on the floor. She opened it and found a clasp for her cloak, a green tree with a copper trunk. The symbol of the royal house of Mirkwood. There was no, note but she knew on instinct who it was from.

She glanced up across the hall, to Legolas's rooms. The door was wide open. Holding the clasp, she walked inside only to find the prince and his favorite longbow gone. She peered out the window to the training grounds, only to find them empty. A single arrow was stuck into the center of the nearest target, but there was no one there.

Sighing, she went outside and retrieved the arrow from the target. It was green-feathered and familiar. It was indeed one of her friend's arrows, yet he was nowhere to be found. Estelyn slipped the arrow into her boot, to sit in the strap alongside her secret knife.

She spent all evening searching the woods, the streams, all the places Legolas had shown her over 400 years of friendship, to find them all vacated, all empty. That pulled at her heart, but she was determined not to let it show.

And as the first light of dawn crept over the trees, a solitary rider departed Thranduil's city, chocolate curls flying behind her in the wind and gray eyes determined, but also tinged with sadness and a hint of regret. The sigil of Mirkwood was visible on her cloak. And little did she know, that perched in a tree watching her go was a blond haired Elf.

**Did you like it? If so, please review! Anyway, until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again, lovelies! As a reward for all the positive feedback this is getting, here's Chapter 2! I would also like to give shoutouts to: sparklesaremylife, Biderdider, , and A man who fell from the sky because you were my FIRST REVIEWERS! WOOHOO! And also, aly,weitkamp, to answer your question: Yes. Eventually. Anyway, enjoy!**

Estelyn stepped out of Mirkwood, onto the warm grass. She took a deep breath and looked around. The sky was perfect blue, almost like Legolas's eyes… _No, _she told herself. _I will not think about that now._

She swung back into the saddle of Naria and urged her horse across the meadow, breaking into a full gallop for the first time. The forest had always seemed too cramped for her, too small for an elleth who had always yearned to be under the open sky, feel the breeze on her cheeks, ruffling her hair.

"Now come on, and then let's see what this new world will do for me." she murmured as she flew across the meadows on Naria's back.

**900 Years Later… Year 3018 of the Third Age**

A solitary figure entered the inn of the Prancing Pony. Whoever it was had a cloak wrapped around their shoulders, with the hood pulled over their head. This solitary figure, without a word to the innkeeper or anyone else, retreated to a booth at the back corner, sitting next to a Ranger.

The figure pulled off their hood, revealing the face of a young woman. Her chocolate curls bounced out of her hood and cascaded down her back almost to her waist, and her gray eyes were somewhere near smoky that evening. She was worried. There had been whispers in the East, of a nameless fear. She had felt a shadow in her mind, one that, although familiar, she had not felt in over 1000 years.

Her hand slid down to her boot, fingering the dagger she kept hidden, and the solitary arrow that was more for remembrance than protection. Aragorn stared at her curiously. "You do not seem well this evening, Estelyn." he murmured.

"I am uneasy. So many things are happening. A dark force in the East, Gandalf missing, Gollum disappeared from Mirkwood…" Aragorn noticed that she had trailed off at the mention of Mirkwood, and her eyes had grown misty.

"Why have you not gone back, my lady?" he asked quietly. She fingered the brooch on her cloak, one of the royal house of Mirkwood. "Because it is not my destiny." she replied. He leaned toward her. "How do you know that?"

She sighed. "You know, I was asked that same question by an Elf 900 years ago."

Before either of them could say anything else, they heard a loud voice from the bar: "Sure! I know a Baggins! He's over there, Frodo Baggins!" They both turned and found one of the hobbits gesturing loudly to another hobbit. They shared a glance. "Blast those hobbits! Don't they know the name isn't safe?"

The hobbit Strider knew to be Frodo got up from his chair and began to make his way towards the bar. Suddenly, he slipped. Aragorn saw a glint of gold flash in the air, and quick as that, Frodo Baggins vanished into thin air.

Strider and Estelyn were quick in motion. In three steps, they were over at the bar, and just as soon as Frodo reappeared, Estelyn and Aragorn grabbed him and brought him up the stairs. "You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill," hissed Strider as they brought the hobbit into a room and shut the door.

"What do you want?" asked Frodo, trying to sound brave. The Ranger did nothing, but replied: "A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry."

Frodo tried not to gasp in shock. The Ranger and this strange woman knew what he had? "I carry nothing," he replied, trying desperately not to sound like he was scared. The Ranger known as Strider moved over to the window, extinguishing the candles with his fingertips.

"Indeed?" he said. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift." Strider threw back his cloak hood, revealing waves of dark hair and a handsome face shadowed in stubble, with stormy gray eyes.

"Who are you?" demanded Frodo.

"Are you frightened?" asked Strider, almost mockingly. Something in his tone made Frodo answer as truthfully as he could: "Yes."

"Not nearly frightened enough. We know what hunts you," said the girl. Her chocolate hair tumbled down her back and her eyes held some sort of ferocity within them. Suddenly, the door burst open and standing in the frame were Merry, Pippin, and Sam, fists raised.

"Let him go!" shouted Sam. "Or I'll have you, Longshanks!" The girl and Strider didn't move. "You have a stout heart," said Strider. "But that will not save you."

"Who are you two?" asked Frodo, a bit less frightened then before. "We are friends of Gandalf. We are here to help you." replied the girl.

"I'm afraid you can wait for the wizard no longer. They are coming."

That night, Strider set up a diversion to keep the Wraiths away. The girl stayed with the hobbits. "Who are you?" asked Sam in wonder. She brushed a wave of hair behind her ear, revealing pointed ears, yet she did not say anything. The hobbits gasped in wonder. "You're an Elf!" said Sam. She smiled. "Indeed. My name is Estelyn, and I am a Wood-elf of Mirkwood. Gandalf mentioned you. He told me to keep an eye on you."

"Why have you two never been mentioned by Gandalf?" asked Frodo curiously. Estelyn shrugged. "We do not like to be mentioned."

"Wait, if you're an Elf, aren't you sailing to the Undying Lands?" asked Pippin. She sighed. "This world still needs me, so I will stay. But when this world has no more need of Elves, then and only then will I sail."

_But yet there is something else keeping me here… a promise to an old friend._

She did not say this, but she felt it in her mind. 900 years was a long time… he had probably forgotten, or moved on. But she didn't know that. And she would not sail until she did.

Little did she know, that a convey of riders were riding from Mirkwood, on the way to Imladris, to tell Elrond of Gollum's disappearance, and that two fates, that had been separate for 900 years, would finally be rejoined.

**Question of the chapter: Which name do you like better: Aragorn or Strider?**

**Bye for now, lovelies!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's Chapter 3! Sorry for the short wait, but I have been SOOOOO busy! But anyway, here it is! Also, Legolas is a bit miffed at her leaving for 900 years, which you will see.**

**Also, you voted Aragorn as the favorite name.**

"Ride. Now. To Rivendell." urged Aragorn as they stared down at Frodo. "I must stay. Perhaps I can heal him!" Estelyn argued. Strider shook his head. "You know no more of healing then I do, elleth or not."

She sighed. She had run out of weapons in her arsenal. "I will ride to Rivendell and find all the help I can. Keep moving." The Ranger nodded, gray eyes stormy. She ran over to where Naria, her black and gray mustang, was saddled and ready. She swung into the leather saddle. "Where are you going?" asked Pippin. She turned toward him, eyes solemn. "I must ride to Imladris for help. I cannot watch Frodo die knowing I did nothing!"

None of the hobbits said a word, so she tapped her heels into Naria's sides. "_Noro lim,_ Naria. (Ride fast.) _Noro lim_!"

With that, the horse took off, hooves thumping as she flew over the ground. Aragorn stared after her. _May the gods be good, _he thought.

A week later, there had been no sign of Estelyn or any other elves, and still Strider and the hobbits pressed on, Frodo deteriorating by the hour. His eyes had clouded, and every so often, he would gasp in pain, a horrible sound.

"Is he going to die?" came the fearful voice of Pippin one night. Aragorn sighed. "He is passing into the shadow world. He will soon become a Wraith like them." Wasting no more time, he turned to Sam. "Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?" Sam's brow furrowed, so Aragorn supplied: "Kingsfoil."

Recognition grew on the hobbit's face. "Aye, Kingsfoil. It's a weed."

"It may help to slow the poison. Hurry." With no more words, the two disappeared into the forest, searching for the plant. Aragorn spotted some and was about to cut it when he felt the cold edge of a blade pressed to his throat. "What's this?" wondered a familiar voice, bringing to mind thoughts of forest glades in springtime. "A Ranger, caught off his guard?"

Aragorn's heart began to thump painfully in his chest, and he looked up to see the long, dark hair, bright eyes, and radiant face of a familiar and beloved elleth. "Arwen," he whispered, hope and love growing inside him at the very sight of his elleth.

"How is Frodo?" asked another familiar voice, sterner, but yet no more less beautiful then the voice of his beloved. Estelyn appeared over Arwen's shoulder, chocolate hair a tangled and curly mess and gray eyes worried. Her clothes were worn and muddy, indicating she did not stay long in Imladris.

"Worse." replied Aragorn. "Take me to him," said Arwen. Aragorn cut off some Kingsfoil and then led the two elleths to where Sam, Merry, and Pippin sat, staring anxiously down at Frodo.

"He is fading," murmured Arwen. "He will not last long." Together, she and Aragorn lifted the hobbit into the saddle of Arwen's horse, Asfaloth. "We must get him to Rivendell."

Aragorn shook his head. "Let me take a horse, I'll go. Stay with the hobbits." Estelyn immediately protested. "It will be faster if we took him," she reasoned, trying to keep her voice calm.

"If we get across the river, then the power of our people will protect us." added Arwen. Aragorn sighed. "I know anything I say, you will just argue against." Arwen squeezed his hand, and he looked into her eyes. "As you wish, Arwen." he murmured.

Without another word, Arwen swung gracefully into Asfaloth's saddle, Estelyn close behind. "Noro lim, Asfaloth, (ride fast)" murmured Arwen, and the horses sped up as they flew across the meadows towards Imladris.

….

It had been five days, and the two elleths had hardly stopped to rest for fear that the Ringwraiths would catch up. So far, they had alluded the black riders, but when eerie shrieks filled the air on the fifth morning, they knew that the riders weren't behind by much. They swung into the saddles of their horses and set out, galloping as fast as they could go. Suddenly, the forest turned into a plain, and Estelyn and Arwen rode, streaking through the meadow. Estelyn turned around and saw five of the Wraiths come out of the woods, swiftly gaining on them.

She urged her horse faster, and Naria responded, going as fast as a horse could. She turned to Arwen, who was clutching Frodo as they rode. A Wraith came up right behind Arwen, and Estelyn shouted a wordless warning. Arwen's graceful horse put on a new burst of speed, leaping over a fallen log.

Suddenly, the two horses came over a ridge, and, like a miracle, the river was in sight. The horses sped up on the sandy bank and into the shallow water, evading the Ringwraiths by feet, nothing more. The black riders stopped at the edge of the shore, staring at the two elleths.

"Give up the halfling, she-elves," one of them hissed. Arwen's voice held both a challenge and a warning: "If you want him, come and claim him." She turned to Estelyn. "Ride to Rivendell. Tell my father that I am standing against the Wraiths, and that Frodo is badly wounded."

Estelyn nodded, but still she asked: "Can you hold them?"

Arwen nodded. Estelyn turned Naria around and rode towards Rivendell. She heard Arwen begin to chant and smiled, knowing what was about to happen.

She rounded the next corner and galloped across the bridge. Inside the courtyard, she leaped off of Naria and ran up the stairs to Elrond's study. The door was closed, but she burst in anyway. Lord Elrond, who had been conversing with a blond haired elf, looked up. "Estelyn. What are you doing here? Is my daughter alright?"

"Yes, she's fine. She is commanding the Loudwater and told me to come here. Frodo is near death. He won't last. Arwen has him and she's coming now."

Just then, she heard the clip-clop of hooves and peered out the window. "She's here now!" she exclaimed, before rushing out the door to help Arwen with Frodo.

Once she was gone, Elrond was left with the blond haired elf, who had an expression of distaste and perhaps bitterness on his face. "Who was that?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"That was Estelyn of Mirkwood, a Ranger, and a very dear friend to my daughter."

The blond haired elf shook his head. "Estelyn. Her name is hope, and yet she herself does not bring it."

Elrond sighed. "She has come back to you, Legolas."

"Not to me!" exclaimed Legolas. "She has come for Frodo. If she even knew who I was, she gave no sign of recognition! She doesn't care!"

"Did you notice the brooch she wore on her cloak?" asked Elrond softly. "Why would I?" spat Legolas. "She didn't even recognize my face."

"It was the sigil of the royal house of Mirkwood." Elrond continued.

That gave Legolas pause, but he did not show it, instead laughing cruelly. "I've waited nine hundred years for her to come back," he scoffed. "So she can wait a bit longer."

Down in the courtyard, Estelyn heard voices float from the study. "I have waited 900 years for her to come back. She can wait a bit longer."

_Why does that voice sound so familiar?_

Then it hit her, and she dropped to her knees, mouth wide open in shock.

**I am also very impressed with you, my lovelies!**

**I don't even have 4 chapters, and yet I have 14 reviews! Keep it up, my friends!**

**Question of the chapter:**

**Favorite Elvish city, Mirkwood, Rivendell, or Lothlorien?**


	4. Chapter 4

**SOOOO sorry for the long wait! In other news, we're in out new house and we have wifi! Hooray! I WILL update this by next week as recompense for the long wait. Sorry again!**

Estelyn sat in the training grounds. Her swords and longbow were next to her on the cobbles, both of her daggers were buried in the middle of one of the targets. A cluster of arrows pierced another target. And in the third target sat one solitary arrow that wasn't hers, yet she had kept safe for 900 years.

Thoughts rushed through her mind, in such a torrent that she was unable to stop them. She had done her duty. Frodo was alive and well, and scheduled to awake any day. Aragorn and the hobbits had arrived, much to Arwen's relief. And in the week she had been there, she had tried to search for Legolas each day, yet she always found him gone. However, every elf she asked said he was still in Imladris for the council, so she would just have to keep searching.

She sighed and stretched her feet out in front of her, staring at her worn brown-leather boots. She heard footsteps behind her and looked up, misty and depressed gray eyes meeting hateful cerulean ones. Legolas sighed and began to walk off without a word. Estelyn stood up, the words coming to her mind even as she said them: "It was as hard for me as it was for you."

The blond haired Elf stopped and turned around, anger clearly written on his face. "No it wasn't. You left and never looked back. I'm a prince. I couldn't leave. So every day for 900 years was looking back." he spat. "Now I know elves are supposed to be calm, so if you'll excuse me, 900 years has made my temper a bit frayed."

Without another word, he began to stalk off, so Estelyn ran up to the target and pulled Legolas's solitary arrow out. She drew her bow, notched the arrow, and shot it, sticking it in the dirt right in front of Legolas.

"Remember this?" she asked, walking up to him. "I found it the day I left, but I couldn't find you. So, I kept it safe for 900 years. And here it is! But now I'm finding that the person I kept it for isn't worth giving it back to."

She said the last few words heavily laced with grief, hoping he would understand. And when Legolas turned around, there was a tiny hint of forgiveness just barely visible in his brilliant blue eyes. But then he looked down and it was gone, replaced only by anger. "I hope your travels never bring you back to Mirkwood, my lady." He said quietly, yet the words tasted of scorn.

Then, he walked off, and this time, Estelyn did not try to stop him.

….

A few days later, Estelyn was garbed in her finest tunic and leggings, with her bow on her back and her swords strapped to her waist. Her hair was freshly washed, and hung in a cascade of chocolate curls down her back.

She was beautiful, and Arwen frequently told her so, yet she did not feel beautiful. Inside, she was a bit lost. For nearly a millennium, she had held on to the hope that when she saw Legolas, her oldest and dearest friend again, he would be happy to see her, and their friendship would go on. And yet he burned that bridge with a few simple conversations.

Before the council began, (for it was the council she was dressed for), she sought out one of her oldest and dearest companions, Gandalf.

She found him in the garden of Rivendell, speaking with a bird, the bird flying from his fingers to land in a tree. He turned toward her. "Estelyn," he said. "Mithrandir," she replied respectfully. "What is troubling you today?" he asked. She sighed. "A certain Prince of Mirkwood is being a bit trying this morning."

He looked at her. "What can I say? It's partly your fault. You were the one who left. You were the one who re-opened that wound by coming back. And yet he is the one who holds on to that bitterness."

"I just don't know what to do. I've come back. I've tried to make amends. And yet he is still himself." She smiled, the barest hint of a smile. "He always was stubborn."

"That he was," agreed Gandalf. "But he can be understanding also." She tried to hold in a snort. "Haven't seen that side of him yet." she scoffed. Gandalf sighed. "You are still young, child. There are many ages you will see. Being an elf, Legolas is a very valuable friend to you. You should just keep trying, child."

And without another word, the wise wizard disappeared into the gardens. Estelyn sighed, reaching down and plucking Legolas's green-fletched arrow out of her boot and fingering it. "What am I supposed to do?" she wondered quietly.

…

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." said Elrond, authority clear in his voice. "Middle-earth is on the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

Estelyn looked around and saw that many of the council members looked very confused; they had not been told the purpose. Only she, Aragorn, Gandalf, Frodo, and Legolas looked like they knew what was going on.

"Bring forth the ring, Frodo." The small hobbit timidly rose to his feet and slowly walked towards the dais. And then, she saw it. So small, and yet so powerful. She was drawn to it, drawn to it… and then she heard the whispers. Not from the members, but from the Ring. She turned her eyes away quickly.

All around her, the council members were staring at the Ring just as intently as she had been, none daring to speak.

One of the men from Gondor was the first to raise his voice.

"So it is true…" he murmured. He stood up and that was when Estelyn noticed that he was Boromir, son of Gondor's steward.

"In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: Doom is near! Isildur's Bane is found!"

He began to walk toward the Ring and Estelyn tensed. Were men really so weak? Elrond, realizing the same thing, shouted: "Boromir!" warningly.

Boromir stepped back, but still continued: "It is a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long had my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe? Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!"

Estelyn could only stand in shock.

"You cannot wield it," said Aragorn. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master!"

"And what would a mere Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir sneered. Estelyn decided she didn't like him and was about to say something, but Legolas beat her to it.

"This is no mere ranger," he stated. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and you owe him your alligance."

Boromir looked mildly impressed, but he hid it well when he asked: "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" almost sarcastically. "And heir to the throne of Gondor," finished Legolas. Aragorn put a hand out to the elf. "Havodad (sit down) Legolas."

The elf complied, sitting down, yet still shooting daggers at Boromir. Estelyn was almost glad that he had someone else to direct anger at.

"Gondor has no king," Boromir sulked. "Gondor needs no king."

"You have but one choice," interjected Elrond. "The Ring must be destroyed."

Suddenly, a Dwarf stood up. "Then what are we waiting for?" he rumbled, and then brought his axe down upon the Ring and was blown backwards. When he stood up, his axe was in pieces and the Ring had not moved an inch.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess," announced Elrond. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, and only there can it be unmade. The Ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Silence reigned for a few minutes, but then, to Estelyn's annoyance, Boromir spoke up again. "One does not simply walk into Mordor," he announced. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more then just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond just said?" asked Legolas, fire in his voice. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" yelled the Dwarf.

"And if we fail, what then?" pointed out Boromir. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the Hands of an Elf!" yelled Gimli.

Suddenly, the Council erupted into chaos. Arguments left and right, between Elf and Dwarf, Gondorian with Men. Suddenly, Estelyn heard a tiny voice, and her heart twinged in sympathy.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," said Frodo. "Though, I do not know the way."

Gandalf smiled kindly. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will," said Aragorn. "You have my sword." Estelyn fingered the arrow in her boot. She had made up her mind.

"And you have my bow," added Legolas. Estelyn almost grinned. A chance to be friends again! Never mind the danger, she had been facing that for 900 years.

"And my axe!" announced Gimli, joining the group.

Boromir was the last to stand. "You carry the fates of us all, little one. If it is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Estelyn stood up. Now was her chance. "I'm coming." she said, drawing her knives. "You have my protection, Master Baggins."

The looks of shock on the faces of Legolas and Boromir was enough to make her feel more herself then in weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's Chapter 5! This is a sort of short chapter, but I think it's rather amusing! So, enjoy! **

"10 companions," said Elrond. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring,"

"Great," said Pippin. "So where are we going?"

Estelyn stifled a laugh, but no one could answer, for that was when Boromir decided to interject. "Actually, Elrond, we only have 9 companions."

Lord Elrond raised an eyebrow. "And why is that, Son of Gondor?"

He pointed to Estelyn. "She cannot come. She is a woman!"

She sighed. "I think I am the least of your worries,"

"See?" Boromir exclaimed. "She'll be a problem!"

"Will I indeed." Estelyn muttered under her breath. Luckily, Aragorn, one of her oldest friends, spoke up.

"I have had the pleasure to know Lady Estelyn for a time, and she is quite competent to be on a quest such as this. In fact, she's probably more competent then most of us here right now," he stated calmly.

Estelyn had to bite back a grin at the praise. "Prove it," said Boromir, crossing his arms. In an instant, Estelyn had her bow out and notched it with Legolas's single arrow, an arrow for luck.

"See that target over there?" she asked Boromir, gesturing towards a target on the other side of the courtyard. "Of course I do," Boromir scoffed. "But if I can't hit it at that range, then neither can you. Did you know I was named the best archer in Gondor? I've held the title for 5 years and counting!"

Estelyn didn't reply, only let the arrow fly and Boromir gape as it pierced the dead center of the target. "Did you know," she started. "That I was named best archer in Mirkwood for over 100 years in a row? I was the head of Thranduil's elven guard, and we called ourselves the Deepwood Snipers. What do you have that can beat that, Son of Gondor?"

He looked completely flabbergasted, but nonetheless, pulled out a dagger with shaking fingers. "See that target?" he pointed to another target, a bit farther away then the first. "I was also the best knife thrower in Gondor."

She had to bite back a grin as he hurled the dagger and it indeed stuck in the target, yet nowhere near the middle at all. She whipped out her dagger and threw the blade, watching it whistle over the heads of some of the dwarves, and stick almost dead center in the target. "We Deepwood Snipers also practiced throwing knives," she said proudly. Boromir looked cowed, shrinking back a little bit. "And we'd have contests like this all the time. Legolas was the only elf in Mirkwood who could beat me with a bow."

She turned toward Legolas, and he didn't smile, yet the telltale spark in his eyes was enough to show Estelyn that she had been forgiven, at least for the moment.

"You know what the losers in those contests would do?" asked the blond-haired elf. "What?" asked Boromir. Estelyn had to bite back a triumphant grin. "They would go get the weapons,"

The Gondorian looked confused for a moment, but then trudged off to retrieve the knives. "And my arrow," she said when he had gotten back. Sighing, he walked off again. He handed her the arrow, annoyance clear on his face, and she just tossed it to Legolas. "This is yours," she said, grinning. This time, he took it, spinning it between his fingers.

"Now that that is all settled," continued Elrond with a smile on his face. "Let's go kill some Orc!" exclaimed Gimli, brandishing his axe. And that was when they all allowed themselves to laugh.

…..

Later that evening, it was time for the feast. The Fellowship would depart in the morning. Arwen lent Estelyn another of her gowns, but Estelyn gently refused her friend's help that evening, saying: "You have a feast to ready for also,"

The feast would begin at dark, and since the sun was still making its downward spiral, Estelyn held off getting ready. Instead, she retreated to the terrace in her quarters, staring off into the woods below.

A soft knock on her door alerted her. "Come in," she replied, and in stepped Legolas, who, it appeared, had not gotten ready for the feast yet either. He came and stood beside her on the terrace. "You're you again," he started. "What do you mean?" she asked quizzically. "I was always me."

"You weren't. You weren't you when you were all sad and then when you told off Boromir, you were you again."

She smiled at the blond haired Elf beside her. "Perhaps I was."

"Are you going to get ready for the feast?" he asked. She nodded. "I just don't feel like it yet." she replied. He nodded. "Do you want to go shoot some arrows?"

She made no response, except to pick up her bow and quiver. He grinned and they went outside.

_And you're you again, _she thought.

…..

That evening, spirits were high. Even though in the morning, 10 people would depart on a probably fatal quest to save the world, a feast in Elrond's hall was nothing to be missed. The mead was flowing, and the elves were singing.

At one point, Estelyn needed some fresh air to clear her head. She stepped outside into the courtyard and stared at the sky. The moon was beautiful, and the stars were shining…

Suddenly, a familiar, (yet slurred) voice pulled her out of her reverie. "ESTE!" the voice said. She looked over to see Legolas leaning against one of the columns. _Since when has he called me Este?_

She walked over to him in confusion. "Es… Este," he slurred. "The stars sure are pretty tonight,"

She snorted. "Are you drunk?" she asked. "May… maybe 20 mugs of mead was a bit too much," he agreed. "But I won the… the drinking game. Other elf passed out…"

"I thought elves couldn't get drunk." she pointed out. "We can, but no… no hangovers. Elves don't get hangovers. Este can… can you go get me another mead?"

"Ah, no. It's bedtime for you. Where are your chambers?" she asked. "What… what chambers?" he mumbled. She sighed. "Oh, joy."

One arm around him to steady him, they slowly walked up to her quarters, since Legolas was too inebriated to find his own. She dropped him on the settee. "You need to go to sleep." she said.

"Elves don't… don't need sleep," he mumbled, before shutting his eyes and falling asleep.

Estelyn snorted and walked back to the feast.

**So what do you think of drunk Legolas? I thought it was funny…. Hahahahaha anyway see you soon my lovelies! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello my lovelies! Sorry, this has been a bit long-in-coming and a bit short in length, but I at least wanted to get something to you before school starts on Monday. Being so, I probably won't update as much, but I will try best I can!**

**Love you all!**

**-crescentmoonthemage**

The next morning, Estelyn sat in the Great Hall, eating a light breakfast of bread, nuts, and fruit. Some other of the elves were there, scattered among the large oaken tables, but none of her Fellowship, she realized.

She was in travel gear, with her worn plum cloak, stained and faded, on her back, along with her meager supplies, and her weapons.

A few moments later, she saw a familiar blonde haired Elf enter the hall. He sat down beside her. "Hello, Estelyn," he murmured. She held back a grin. "Remember last night?"

He grimaced. "In detail."

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the loud entrance of Boromir. She sighed. "He irks me," she muttered. The Gondorian spotted them a moment later. "Ah! Elves! Our party is waiting!" He made a broad gesture towards the door. Sighing, the wood-Elves followed him out.

…

Forty days and forty nights. That was how long Gandalf had said they would travel for, to reach the Gap of Rohan.

In these weary, travel-worn days, the Fellowship stayed in a sort of line. Gandalf was in front, because he knew the paths of the land better then anyone, even the two Elves and the Ranger. Estelyn and Legolas were close behind, scanning the rugged landscape with keen eyes.

Next came the hobbits. Merry and Pippin never failed in their good spirits, and were always there to lift the sapped Fellowship with a quip or two. Frodo came next in line, closely watched by all the party.

After that came Sam. He led a pony, the same pony that held all their bags. He had accompanied them all the way from Imladris, and Sam had lovingly named him Bill. And finally, Aragorn and Boromir, keeping rear guard.

Spirits were tense, hands were never far from swords and daggers and arrows. No one talked much, all were focused on what was ahead.

It was on one such morning that the trouble began.

It was mid-morning, and the Fellowship had stopped on an outcropping of rock for a brief rest and some food. Frodo and Sam sat on a rock, eating sausage, and Boromir was teaching the other two hobbits how to fight.

He had beaten them, and so Merry and Pippin dropped their swords and tackled the Gondorian, pushing him to the ground as Aragorn laughed. Estelyn, beside him, was finding that perhaps Boromir was not as arrogant as she had made him out to be.

A cool breeze blew through the air, ruffling Estelyn's hair. Her hand immediately went to her dagger. Something wasn't right…

She turned to Legolas, scouting from one of the high rocks. He seemed to be intently staring at something in the sky. "What's that?" she asked.

"It's nothing," replied Gimli gruffly. "Just a wisp of cloud."

"It's moving awfully fast," replied Boromir, leaving off his wrestling with the hobbits. "And against the wind."

Suddenly, Estelyn realized what it was and she opened her mouth, but Legolas beat her to it. "Crebain, from Dunland!" he exclaimed. "Hide!" shouted Aragorn, already putting out the fire.

It was a mad scramble to grab bags and supplies and dive under bushes and rocks. Estelyn grabbed her pack and dropped under a large bush. She saw Legolas running around, looking for a spot, so she grabbed his hand and pulled him under the bush with her.

The bush was large, but with both of them and their stuff, they were pressed against each other. Legolas turned toward her. He was about to thank her, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

Suddenly, the caws and screams of the Crebain filled the air as the dark birds soared overhead, once, twice, thrice, before flying off in a different direction. The Fellowship warily emerged.

"The passage south is being watched," said Gandalf, bitterness in his voice. "We will have to take the path of Caradhras." He pointed toward a huge, snowy mountain, and Estelyn knew that it wasn't going to be easy…

…..

She was right. As they climbed, the air grew thin and the snowdrifts grew ever taller. Estelyn and Legolas, being elves, could walk right on top, but Gimli seemed to sink in more every step.

A little bit later, the snow thinned as they crossed the summit of one of the mountains. Pippin and Merry started gleefully hurling snowballs at each other, and Estelyn joined in the game when one caught her on the ear. All the Fellowship stopped to throw a few, and laughter was high in the air. But that all stopped when one caught Frodo, making him tumbled down the hill. Estelyn helped him up, but not before seeing a glimmer of gold where the hobbit had fallen, and a certain Gondorian pick it up.

He dangled it from one gloved finger, transfixed by the slim band of gold. "It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing," he murmured, as if in a trance. "Such a little thing."

"Boromir!" Aragorn interjected, rather harshly. "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir pretended not to care, but she could see something hidden in his eyes that suggested otherwise. He extended the Ring to Frodo, who took it gladly. "I care not," he announced, ruffling the hobbit's hair. Then, he continued on without another word.

Estelyn stared after him. She was going to have to watch the Gondorian, watch him closely…


	7. I'm Sorry, Lovelies

**It is with a sad heart that I announce to you my decision to put this fic on hold. I have enjoyed writing it, I really have. But I'm so busy with trying to update my main fic, More Broken, and with school and sports, that I really don't have the time.**

**I wanted to tell you, dear Lovelies, instead of just leaving. I will be back, but not for a while. So, my dearest lovelies, don't abandon this. I will have an update by the end of every month, they just won't be coming as frequently any more.**

**I love you all, and I hope you will wait for me.**

**Sincerely,**

**crescentmoonthemage**


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